Blue Gem Filgaia
by El Dorado
Summary: Years after the events of WA3, the Maxwell gang must once again save Filgaia. This time from a most formidable threat, Maya Schroedinger's presidency.
1. The Faces From the Faded Posters

**Blue Gem Filgaia  
By: El Dorado**

**Standard Disclaimer: Same old drill… I don't own anything…. **

Four pairs of worn out shoes pounded into the ground, sinking into the soft dirt slightly. The final pair of shoes, a pair of tan suede boots, lagged behind by more than a couple of steps. Clive Winslet watched the others march ahead of him with something akin to nostalgia. Not too long ago he would have been up ahead; second only to Virginia Maxwell. Sadly though, it seemed that old age had gotten to him… Even his vision seemed blurred… funny what five years could to a person…

"Yo, Clive…" murmured Jet, slowing his pace to match Clive's. "Your glasses are all fogged up…" And with that alone Jet speeded up ever so slightly pulling just ahead of Clive who now sported an amused grin.

Clive shook his head slightly and reached for the offending pair of glasses. He wiped them on one of his sleeves and inspected them closely. It had been the humidity… it was going to rain soon. He chuckled to himself, a gesture which went ignored by his teammates. He had imagined the whole vision thing… and quite frankly it was a ridiculous conclusion. Five years was not that much… he was only thirty five after all.

With a renewed confidence, Clive quickened his gait. He soon pulled ahead of Jet, whose lack of enthusiasm manifested itself in his walking. A few moments later he was in front of Gallows who was still a bit on the lazy side. Soon enough he was side by side with Virginia Maxwell.

For a moment Virginia completely halted. Turning to face Clive, she nodded, as if acknowledging his presence. After receiving one of the man's small smiles she continued her march. It had been a long time since they had walked like this: She leading the way, Clive behind her as support, Gallows third with good-natured obedience, and Jet lagging behind in silent protest. It was a pretty standard formation that had been abandoned somewhere along the journey… twenty three year old Virginia Maxwell welcomed it back with open arms.

"So leader..." began Clive, in the almost too confidential tone he used when discussing anything of even remote importance, "Where are we headed to, again?"

Virginia smiled. "Nowhere as usual… just walking away from danger, that's all," she replied rather pleasantly.

Clive adjusted his glasses absentmindedly. "We can't flee forever…" he reminded her gently.

"Yup, I know…" Clive stared at her in confusion and Virginia grinned. "We've just got to be patient… lay low for a while... What was it you used to say?" Virginia put a hand to her chin in thought before smiling even wider. "Looking for a shortcut can lead you astray."

Clive nodded slowly as if a bit unsure. "Yes… I suppose we should wait a bit longer, to be safe… but then again it has been five whole years…"

Virginia's blue eyes widened in disbelief, had it really been that long? She paused thoughtfully… yes it had. Virginia considered this new bit of information with a frown. "Yeah... it _has_ been five years. Hmm… what do you guys think?" she asked, turning to face the remainder of the Maxwell gang. "Hmm?"

Gallows looked to either side of himself before pointing an uncertain finger to his chest. "Who me?" he questioned. Virginia nodded. A comically smug expression crossed his already goofy face, and he cleared his throat loudly. "Well, it's my expert opinion that…" his voice trailed off and he laughed nervously. "I have absolutely no idea."

Virginia shook her head in disapproval. "Okay… well… Jet how about you?"

Jet Enduro was completely silent as he examined a wall. He looked up for a brief moment then continued to stare at the wall. Virginia frowned slightly.

"Okay then…" she mumbled with just a hint of anger. "Since Jet won't even answer me. I'll just ask Clive…"

Clive smiled wryly. "Better safe then sorry…" he replied after a moment.

Virginia nodded. "Okay, so it's settled then… we'll lay low for a little while longer…"

A brief murmur of agreement crossed the audience of four and three of those present resumed their journey. However, no sooner had Virginia taken two steps than she had noticed something was missing. She couldn't hear any of those weird scratching sounds that always accompanied their travels. No one was dragging their feet along halfheartedly… Jet wasn't following. Virginia stopped again, trembling in anger…

"Jet," she began through clenched teeth, "Do you want to tell us what's distracting you?"

"Yeah, whatever…" mumbled Jet, motioning for the rest of the group to join him. His companions walked towards the oh-so-interesting wall and examined it just as Jet had done. On the wall there was a poster decorated in red and blue.

Clive's lips twitched slightly as he mouthed out the words he was reading. Jet scowled and prevented the man from reading further with a gloved hand. "Don't look at what's there…" commanded Jet, "Look at what's not."

For a minute or two even Clive Winslet was stumped. Then he understood. Smiling, Clive announced, "The wanted poster is not there…"

Jet nodded in approval. He was almost starting to believe he would have to explain… _with words_. He breathed a sigh of relief. For the countless time, Jet was grateful for Clive's intelligence.

"What do you mean?" questioned Gallows looking dumbfounded as usual. Jet sighed and looked to Clive. The older man nodded and smiled, instantly reading Jet's expression.

"I mean that _our_ wanted poster is gone… I distinctly remember one of the posters being on this specific wall, the day we encountered Dario and Romero." explained Clive.

A collective 'oh' was heard from both Virginia and Gallows. Virginia nodded eagerly. "So either our poster was ripped down or…"

Jet reached up to the poster, and much to Clive's dismay, tore it down. Beneath it was another poster which soon found a home on the floor. A couple tears and discarded sheets later a familiar wanted poster appeared. The paper was browning and the barely visible figures printed on it were no longer as accurate as they had been five years ago, but still, it was unmistakable. This was indeed their wanted poster… There was a brief moment of silence…

Suddenly, Gallows flashed an all too familiar grin. "We're old news!" he announced gleefully.

"We can stop hiding!" cheered Virginia soon after. Smiling happily, she whirled around, dancing with herself before reaching for Jet's hands. However, Jet did not comply with her offer. Instead, he shot her curious glance, scowled and blushed simultaneously, then cast his eyes to the floor.

Gallows laughed. "Aww… the punk is embarrassed…" he crooned.

Jet frowned. "No… I'm not… I'm just… umm… I'm just wondering what he's doing." Jet pointed a finger at Clive who was crouched down near the floor. Clive was examining the ground, intensely; much like Jet had the wall.

Gallows seriously suspected that Jet's reply was just a well thought out excuse but he shrugged his shoulders and nodded. After all, Clive's behavior was a bit strange. "Hey buddy, what are you doing?" he questioned.

Clive did not reply, instead he stood up, chuckling like a man possessed. His chuckles escalated, growing louder and louder by the second and he was forced to remove his glasses for fear of breaking them.

Jet sighed. His normally impassive expression was replaced by one portraying a slight sadness. "Darn," he announced forlornly, "Clive's gone senile." He paused, glancing at Clive in pity. "I kinda liked the old man too…"

Gallows nodded in solemn agreement. Virginia however, was not as easily convinced. Leaning closer to the now breathless man, she placed a hand on his forehead. "Clive, you want tell us what's wrong?" she questioned gently.

Clive let out a couple spare giggles then replaced his glasses. Clearing his throat, he said, "It's nothing… It's just that this poster is quite amusing…" He held up the poster decorated in red and blue. It was most recent poster of the bunch, the one he had been reading before Jet interfered. It was a campaign poster and it read something like this:

_Don't be a wussy! Vote Maya Schrodinger. She's not a hopeless wannabe like some of those other candidates. And she'll lead you into hell and high water. She's been a tyrant for years and therefore has more experience than most people. So make the right choice… choose to live. Vote Maya!_

Beneath this declaration was a picture of Maya Schrodinger herself. She was smiling; a smile which was supposed to be friendly but instead looked feral. From her stance any drifter with even a shred of sense could tell that she was holding an ARM but the weapon in question was conveniently excluded from the photo. Overall, it was as Clive had said, ridiculous.

"On no," mumbled Virginia after she finished reading. "I always thought that Maya was kidding about the president thing…"

"As did I…" agreed Clive.

"Yeah… I know…" murmured Gallows.

Jet shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't hold it against the crazy witch…"

Virginia glared at him. "Jet that's mean!" she shouted.

"Whatever…"

Following that comment a bitter argument broke out. Gallows sided with Virginia and Jet attempted to ward both of them off with insults… a bitter argument indeed. Clive looked at his comrades. For some reason all their bickering gave him a strange warm feeling inside. Smiling he asked, "What do we do now?" Virginia paused mid sentence and held her hand up in a wait-while-I-finish gesture. Clive was not in the least bit upset. He knew exactly what they would do; they'd stop Maya. It was their duty. After all, they may be the faces from the faded posters but they were still the illustrious Maxwell gang.


	2. A Rough Start

**Standard Disclaimer: I don't own anything.  
This update was a long time coming, so here you go!  
**

Four figures sat at a small table in a small saloon known simply as "Honey of Roses." The accommodations were less than comfortable and Jet found himself in another one of his foul moods. He hated these so called discussions, all they were an excuse to annoy him. He rather liked Virginia… and Clive and Gallows for that matter, but with each passing day he found himself believing his theory more and more. These people were out to get him, in way or another.

"Hey Jet, what do you think?" questioned Virginia, snapping her head towards the silent boy.

Jet winced upon hearing his own name. The first blow had come sooner than he had expected. It was… a knife to the lung… he decided after a brief moment. Unable to answer he shook his head hoping that Virginia would interpret the gesture as whatever in the hell would make her leave him alone.

"Yes," murmured Clive suddenly, "We'd really love to hear your opinion on the matter."

Clive Winslett had just launched attack number two. Well, it wasn't really much of an attack… he just twisted the knife a bit. It was still painful though, and Jet could feel life itself slipping from his fingers….

"Come on punk," added Gallows mockingly, "Don't tell me you can't even think one measly idea?"

Jet couldn't breathe... this attack was too brutal. He felt a terrible pain well up inside of him. This was the final blow. Death was imminent; Jet could feel death's icy fingers clawing at him, beckoning him to the cruelest fate of all… he couldn't escape…

Virginia, Clive and Gallows all stared at Jet with concern. His face seemed to be turning blue. Virginia shot Clive a questioning glance and the sniper shrugged. The strange turn of events confused even him. However, it didn't seem as if Jet was truly endangering himself, so Clive decided to let their companion solve his problem by himself.

Virginia, however, had no such wisdom. She leaned closer to her disgruntled teammate. She gave him a look of pure concern, which though unnoticed by her, seemed to make the angry look on his face even more menacing. "Umm… Jet," she began softly, "You're okay right?"

"Fine!!!" exclaimed Jet suddenly. "You evil conniving sadists win! I'll tell you what you wanna hear!"

Clive grimaced slightly at being called an 'evil conniving sadist' but nodded just the same. "Please take your time…" he suggested gently.

Jet's expression softened slightly. "Damn right I will." He paused thoughtfully. "I think we should run against the Schrodinger Gang, and win." There was a moment of silence and Jet was certain that his idea would meet opposition. Oh, well at least now they would leave him alone.

"Hey, that's a pretty good idea!" exclaimed Gallows, breaking the silence with his loud remark. Clive and Virginia nodded simultaneously.

"Yeah, whatever."

"No really punk, you did good. Better than good…"

"Shut up, you big oaf," mumbled Jet despite the grin plastered to his face.

"Let's not bicker now," advised Clive in attempt to prevent any fights that would break out between the large Baskar and his smaller rival. Both men seemed placated and Clive smiled in relief. "Good, now let's expand on Jet's idea."

"I call president!" exclaimed Virginia happily.

Clive was terribly surprised but he managed to blurt out, "Vice-president."

Gallows frowned. "Okay, so that leaves me and the punk with nothing." Jet nodded in agreement.

"That's not true" mumbled Virginia. "Gallows you can be our body guard and Jet can be the campaign manager!"

Jet scoffed. "That won't work! What do I put on the posters? Vote for a girl and her middle aged friend? I'm not good at making anything seem good." He paused thoughtfully. "I'm a pessimist and that's not gonna change."

"Well, that's too bad. You'll have to do your best," commanded Virginia.

"Well, I still think it's a dumb idea," mumbled Jet.

Virginia seemed confused. "But Jet, it was _your_ idea…"

"All I'm saying is that it won't work."

"Why not?" questioned Virginia.

"Because you guys won't get any votes! I'd vote for Maya before I'd vote for us!"

Virginia looked a bit crestfallen. "Well the odds are against us… but we could still do it." Her demeanor brightened considerably and she smiled. "Really we could…! We'd just have to work together that's all!"

She glanced about with such naïve happiness that Jet faltered in his rebuttal of her claim. Gallows cast him a warning look and despite his rebellious streak, Jet managed to keep his mouth shut.

Virginia glanced at the three men at the table, in no way discouraged by their silence. "Ah, so we'll start soon enough." She paused shyly looking at her companions in slight embarrassment. "In the meantime, I'd like to go use the bathroom. Excuse me." She sprung to her feet before, hastily making her way into the restroom.

A moment or two passed before Jet broke the silence. "That's our candidate for president: a girl who sprints to bathroom and doesn't let you get a word in edge-wise." There was a mockery in his voice that struck a chord in Gallows.

"Shut up punk" scolded Gallows, glaring at Jet. "Try and be supportive for once. Quit being such a kill joy."

"I'm not killing anyone's joy! I'm just saying, Maya may be a crazy witch but she's still better suited than our fearless leader here," clarified Jet sullenly. "And Clive is a little too know-it-all-ish to be a vice president. We're better off giving up now. Let Maya run the country."

"And what about our principles?" demanded Gallows, visibly annoyed. "Do we just throw those to the wind?"

Jet scowled and wormed deeper down into his scarves. "I never agreed with Virginia's stupid values anyway," he murmured.

The moment Jet uttered that phrase, Clive could sense something terrible was about to happen. With almost lightning fast reflexes he threw his right arm out, slamming it into the well toned chest of Gallows Caradine.

Clive's arm caught Gallows mid-lunge in an agonizing collision. As a result, Gallows' leap fell a bit short of its target. Instead, his large body hit the table with a loud thud crushing Clive's arm in the process. Though Clive had taken the brunt of the impact Gallows was also a bit battered. Yet pain was not enough to damper Gallows' anger.

Grunting, Gallows shifted his weight ever so slightly, allowing Clive a bit of relief. Then, with out a moment's hesitation, Gallows reached over and grabbed Jet by the front of his shirt, managing to hoist the surprised teen off the ground a couple inches.

"Listen here punk," growled Gallows leaning close to Jet. "I don't know who you think you are, labeling our leaders or anyone's principles as stupid. You better apologize for that right now." Instead of replying, Jet squirmed out of Gallows's half hearted grasp and glared daggers at the man.

Clive clutched his arm to his chest, massaging it in an attempt to soothe the pain. "Please refrain from any sort of violence…" he pleaded, his wounded arm making him sound a bit more pathetic than he would have liked. Peace between those two was merely wishful thinking.

Giving his arm a few last rubs, Clive halfheartedly rose from his seat, watching Jet and Gallows square off. The determination in both contenders' eyes spelled trouble and he moved to put himself between the arguing duo.

Now positioned in between Gallows and Jet, Clive used his body as sort of barrier between both of his teammates. He stood a bit closer to Gallows; the barrier was more to keep the larger man at bay. Jet wouldn't attack unless provoked. Gallows had already been provoked.

For a moment, Gallows seemed calmed by the turn of events. Clive was not facing Gallows and therefore could not make a definite assessment but judging from the rate of Gallows's breathing it was safe to say that the man was soothed. Sighing in relief, Clive allowed his arms to fall slack, and the stiff posture he had assumed throughout the ordeal was gradually relaxed into a slight slouch.

Abruptly, Gallows once again sprung into action, this time slamming the whole of his rather hefty body into Clive's, in an attempt to breach the human blockade. Clive skidded a few feet but amazingly managed to remain standing. From then on the simple goal of peace became a struggle between Clive and Gallows, with Clive on the losing end.

"Gallows, please calm down," mumbled Clive with some difficultly. "Jet has his own manner of saying things. He doesn't mean things quite as harshly as he says them."

Jet vaguely considered correcting Clive; he meant a lot of what he said. However, Jet decided against it because really, a thirty something year old married man and father having to stop a fight between him and that big lug: that was just sad.

"Fine. I guess people are entitled to their own opinions on stuff," mumbled Jet; his voice just barely audible above Clive and Gallows' banter. His comment seemed to go unnoticed by Gallows for the large man did not react. Clive however, seemed to have a knack for hearing things that others wished he didn't, and his expression soon took a drastic turn.

Flashing a small triumphant smile, Clive nodded. "Yes! That's what Gallows was trying to tell you," he urged gently.

Gallows ceased his angry stampede and frowned. "What?" he questioned.

"Oh, Jet just apologized," replied Clive, waving his hand joyfully. Jet growled. It wasn't quite an apology.

Gallows seemed placated. "Well I'm glad. Though the sulky punk shouldn't have said it in the first place." His expression softened a little. "Get thinking about our campaign angle."

Jet scowled. "Yeah, I got our angle alright; I travel with a bunch of self-righteous pricks." Clive opened his mouth to protest but Jet didn't seem ready to listen. Instead, he turned on heel and moved to exit through the swinging doors of the saloon.

Clive sighed. "Ah, well we have yet another disagreement…" He pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. "A nice start to a nice day, don't you think?" He flashed a feeble smile. Gallows was not amused.

"This campaign is gonna be hell…"

Clive nodded slowly. "Yes, but we've been through worse." He paused pensively. "Jet doesn't like Virginia's naivety but truly she does tend to be right about such things." He smiled again this time more warmly. "Things will work out. Rest assured."

Gallows nodded reluctantly. "If you say so. Anyway, right now, I just need a cold stiff drink."

Clive frowned but despite it all; he could relate to the sentiment.


End file.
